Tangent
We are indeed two parallel lines
That run in eternal agreement
Continuously our course defines
A harmonious stand of our sentiments.
This united length of partnership
Side by side in platonic direction
Perpetual lines of enviable friendship
Will never be found in an intersection.
Fate may be kind, our lives may cross
Destinies in a future engagement
But at the moment, we are at a loss
Our lives, our lines are just tangent.
poem by Cynthia Buhain-Baello
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Deux Parallele
Two parallel lines, two parallel lines
why can't they intertwine?
Osculating endlessly in an oblivious dream
Protracting incessantly, continuing as they seem
Arduoulsy crisscrossing, but they try not
Restless, unfortunate and strange-they intersect-a lot
Abhorrent, one line was assentient
Lines that shouldn't have met-but with Fate's consent
Languishing now, they converge-supposedly inexorable
Envisaging an unbounded union, then one line fumbles
Lines- these two lines now distorted and twisted
Lonely and longing, their common point, now ill-fated
Inelastic, these two lines- concurrent and disentangled
Nevermore will these two lines meet and form the Angle
Excogitating now, these two lines, victims of fate
Saved...these two lines be, once parallel, intersecting, can only wait
poem by Pete Zaesar Galula
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In Between The Lines
In between the lines
as we go about our lives
we often seem to think
no one loves no one cares
In between the lines
we drag our weary feet
and often think who cares
and shuffles mindless
to the beat
In between the lines
we search for gloom & doom
we come up with outrageous stories
that we plant between the lines
In between the lines
we throw caution to the wind
making out the lies
to be a bitter truth
so just bare in mind
what’s just been said
we always learn life’s mystery’s
in between the lines
poem by Kaila George
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When You Read This
when you read this
poem, i am letting you know
that i still care,
when you continue reading on
the next line
you are letting me know
what i still know
that you still care for me too
and then you are angry
about how presumptuous can i be
and so i make another line
and another line and if you continue reading
more of these lines
in this poem
you are letting me know
that you are still angry about
my untimely departure
that moment when love was
still strong
when desire was at its peak
and then you think things over
how you have been
unwittingly betrayed by my words
and you keep on
reflecting if these lines still
say the same
meanings and i keep on writing
more lines
hoping that you will understand
what i have not said
because i cannot say them
because my self
cannot lie by saying them to
you because i do not wish to
hurt you because i still
love you and then i write lines
that ask
if you still love me but then
i must put an end to all
these useless writing
time has spoken
as the lines of fate and
destiny still have it
we were never meant for
each other
the love is there
the bodies still alive
our hands never reach
till then
perhaps in the next life
at the right moment
perhaps when
our parallel lives meet
at some point
of convergence
and as you read let me put
the last line: goodbye
May God make us
meet and love again.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Time Lines
i have said nothing for time wont allow me.
time lines... time lines... time lines, what i felt for you has turned to confusion.
as time lines up our times together worry overshadows my 'influenced' judgement.
time lines..
our future perfectly sealed for i filled my heart with your promises.
time outlined your feelings for me..
times we spent together seem so far away like the times of the early bud.
our love has lost its will to florish like juliets rose.
time has outlined my affection for you.
time lines.. time lines..
the memories we once cherished together, the lines that have been put between us by time have destroyed the love once shared by you and me.
time has been thought to mend broken hearts ALAS, it has made matters worse.
time lines me and you. time lined our fate through spectatr critiques.
we possess souls joint together by time, YET its time that divides us.
time took its tole on our love.
is this forbidden love? that time has outlined
time lines my emotions of love for you..
time lines my emtions.
time lines.... time lines
poem by Njube Nangamso
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Landmine
Well there ain't much entertainment
In a town this size at all
So I've got myself up, dressed for this arraignment
Cause I don't think I'm ready for the fall
Now I find my thoughts deep in this room all by myself
Thinking the moon might just explode if I don't leave
And the more I wait
It seems the more I hate
This town for what it's doing to me
This is when I need you most of all
Then I stepped upon a landmine
And I saw my future rise
I'm getting to know you
Between the lines
I dropped down to about one foot two
Hoping to get more looks for you
But it never made much difference in your eyes
And I suppose that I couldn't help things much
To set this day in a whirlwind rush
After finding out the backseat changed our lives
Then I stepped upon a landmine
And I saw my future rise
I'm getting to know you
Between the lines
Between the lines
It's 5am and if I run
I am sure to pay for what I've done
And if I say I'm sure I wish I ran
And though I knew this day would come
I never thought that I would run
For someone who was blind to me
You're as blind to me as you could be
Na na nana na
Na na nana na
Na na nana na
Yeah
Then I stepped upon a landmine
And I saw my future rise
I'm getting to know myself
Between the lines
Between the lines
song performed by by Train
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Who You Are To Me
if you read these lines this morning
these lines that miss you
these lines that say i love you
these lines are dying to touch you
to hug and kiss you
these lines that know every inch of you
if you read these lines well enough
then you know who i am
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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If You Read These Lines This Morning
if you read these lines this morning
these lines that miss you
these lines that say i love you
these lines that are dying to touch you
to hug and kiss you
these lines that know every inch of you
if you read these lines well enough
then you know who i am
i, who is nothing to you.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Solidarity In Lines
unemployment lines
lines of books
Lines of cocaine
Food stamp lines
Theater lines
Grocery store
car wash
school children
Soup kitchen
club
abortion clinic
Delicatessen
traffic lines
crosswalks
Traffic Jam
Lines on a map
Jules gets home and un-loads his rucksack
Gods laziness
Because of the machines and computers we will all end up lonely human beings
poem by Jerome Moore
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Let This Be Understood
We stand apart
We draw the lines
You are there
& I am here
We make an agreement
To maintain the differences
Between us
We understand to know nothing
About us
And there will no insistence
I draw a circle
When I get in you must be out
When I go out you must get in
We always exclude one another
That is the agreement
Or this house burns
On a short circuit
Or another one dies
shocked
on electric
execution
On parallel distances
All is safe, nothing burns.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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And then the paper is dirty
You start with a clean sheet of paper
Write some words, scribble, draw some lines
Some curves, sharp lines, tangent to bold
Lines, and rough sketches of faces and
Bodies, thin lines that get crooked from
End to end of this limited space,
You doodle, you get wild with so
Many lines unimaginable, senseless,
The paper finally looks dirty,
And you do not like it, you crumple
It and throw it in a waste basket,
You get another clean sheet,
And this time, you think what is
It really that you want to make
Out of this new clean sheet of paper.
You think, you ponder, and you need
More time this time not to waste
This clean, glossy sheet of paper.
I think you are doing well with your life.
You see you are supposed to be careful
Every word is delicate and every paper
Is actually accounted.
Never mind guilt, set it aside for a while.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Bridge To Tomorrow
I stand on the bridge to tomorrow
where on the other side
there is always hope
for caring and understanding
leading into new friendships
and new lives.
Where we can only cross
when this day passes from our lives.
The bridge to tomorrow
where on the other side
our dreams will come true.
Where our lives as we know it
will change we hope for the better
and see new things
blossoming in our lives.
The bridge to tomorrow
where on the other side
destiny awaits to change our lives.
6 April 2009
poem by David Harris
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Lines
I asked
Happiness
To give me
Some lines
To write
Happily…
It grimaced
And said -
There was
Nothing
In its booty.
It felt so empty.
So to help me
It went out of the way
To borrow some lines
From sadness and gave
Those to me.
So here I am
Writing some lines
To you, borrowed
From my friends -
Messrs. Happiness
And Sadness who
Were kind enough
To lend some lines
To me....for thee....
poem by Aparna Chatterjee
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It's OK
Hear me say it's ok there just is no other way
I believe and strongly feel some things just aren't meant to be
All the time in our lives something somewhere draws a line
I believe in time you'll see sometimes some thing are best let be
You may find between the lines lotsa things you missed first time
But that's ok now hear me say we all learn from our mistakes
Yes I'll be all right
Yes I think I'll be all right
I hope I'll be all right
Yes I wish I'll be all right
It's ok
Comed this far it's who we are and what and how that takes us far
So just proceed leave history behind but make sure your hands are clean
Halt for a while now would you try to change things given one more try
Sure I know the level is low but never fail and you'll never know
You may find between the lines... ::
Yes I'll be all right...
All the time in our lives...
You may find between the lines... ::
Yes I'll be all right...
song performed by by Quorthon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Poet Became His Own Poetry
A POET BECAME HIS OWN POETRY
A poet became his own poetry
And all he could be
Was lines and lines and lines
Inside and outside
Lines and more lines
Off- rhymes
Finding a phrase
A metaphor
Hearing listening
To sounds
His own mind made.
A poet became his own poetry
And went into the long sleep
Of being only what he wrote.
No one can know how
Reading these lines now
The poet and the poetry live
without themselves.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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An Exhortation On Some Lines....
something is missing in your lines.
i regret to tell you that.
it does not speak well of yourself
or the world
or any moment, it is like a desert and all we have is space and
a horizon
there is even no wind to blow the sands away
i do not expect rain in the desert
but i could have seen a camel or a line of trucks or a
caravan
or even a Bedouin riding on his black horse with a scimitar
here i am again
in my worst self trying to tell you what to do so that you can be what you are
your lines are straight and too clean and that make them appear
dishonest
people love crooked lines and those that move in free directions
lines that are cold like the wind
and yet vibrant at night
not really dead, but simply grieving in silence for the loss of
someone so loved and missed.
i do not want you to change your lines, they are yours to
show,
i may be unfair wishing that your lines may be like mine
but mine are too sad and always sounding like a lover abandoned.
the beautiful lines are not clean.
they are imbued with our errors, erasures, blasting in our faces
like explosives
where shattered as we are on the fields of our disasters
only in a few seconds
we become silent spaces again.
mine are sad, and lonely and abandoned.
they are the only ones i have now, and so i must be compelled to
have them and love them
just the way they are.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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My Twenty Lines
I just read this poem about using just twenty lines,
and it brought these words to my mind.
Who are they to tell us how many lines we should use to speak?
This is America where we have a law known as freedom of speech.
Just twenty lines tell you something about my life in words.
To me that seem completely absurd.
My life is much more than just twenty lines.
Hell I am thirty nine.
And if they except me to sum up thirty nine years in twenty lines
They are complete outside their minds.
How am I suppose to tell you how I nearly died when I was child?
Or how my mother harsh words took away my smile:
In just twenty lines?
Like I said they must be out of their minds.
I guest I can do if I shorten my life.
I don't have to talk about how much I love my future wife.
But her love is the inspiration for a lot of my poems.
So to not talk about her would be wrong.
I have a lot more to say but I'm out of time.
I reach my limit of my twenty lines.
Taste
Im up and I can take what you give
And Im here but I dont want you to live with me
'cause all I want is a taste for free
Im down and I will drag you along and around
Until you burst into song and unwind
And leave your new life behind for a while
Cause I can see through the lines
Cause I can see through the lines
Im down and I will drag you along and around
Until you burst into song and unwind
And leave your new life behind for a while
Im out and I will stay here alone and without
Someone controlled by the phone and tv
'cause what its doing to me is fine
Cause I can see through the lines
Cause I can see through the lines
Oooh oooh
Step into space
Oooh oooh
Alter my place
Oooh oooh
That someone else made
Why I have stayed
Into things I could be
Or if I could see
Into fog that surrounds
And pins me to the ground
I can see through the lines
I can see through the lines
I can see through the lines
I can see through the lines
song performed by by Phish
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Am A Poet Of Short Lines
I am a poet of short lines-
Of lines that are phrases,
Of lines that are small and broken-
I am a poet of short lines-
Of impatience and small breath,
Of hurrying and not taking time-
I am a poet of short lines-
Of condensation and conciseness,
Of maximum meaning in minimum space-
I am a poet of short lines
Short ones.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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I Am An Old Man Writing A Poem
I AM AN OLD MAN WRITING A POEM
I am an old man writing a poem
I have been writing a poem all my life
The lines seem somewhat blurred now
But what I have written
Will say I hope
Something of what we are
And what we have been
And what we will be.
I am an old man still writing a poem
And I love with all my heart all those
Who have lived their lives-
in one way or another – with me
I do not know how to thank you-
I write these lines to thank you
And pray for the goodness and blessing
Of your lives and the lives of those you love-
And will love-
Now here
And in all your time to come.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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A Pigeon
I've picked up your name from the floor
and held it for long on the palm of my hand
watching it gently peck its lines
until there remained nothing not a single crumb
and your name well fed slept for a while
in lines of death in lines of life
in lines of the head and lines of the heart
in intricate patterns that sealed me for too long
there was a lullaby I wanted to sing
but I was not able to open my mouth
for fear you'll wake up and disappear
and I promised myself I would never dropp you again
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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